


Goneril Girl

by barelycoherent



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Humor, Byleth and Edelgard recruited everyone, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Hilda POV, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Past Character Death, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Rare Pairings, This is a hate free zone, tis a revenge saga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barelycoherent/pseuds/barelycoherent
Summary: Hilda Valentine Goneril had spent her entire young life lowering expectations as best she could. She doesn't regret it until only her and Claude are left fighting for the Alliance while her past friends fight against her.When she appears in Enbarr three years after the Empire's successful conquest of Fodlan, she has grand plans for revenge and a reputation that belies the threat she poses. The Black Eagle Strike Force isn't ready for what's coming.
Relationships: Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Holst Goneril, Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Raphael Kirsten, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Leonie Pinelli, Marianne von Edmund/Ignatz Victor, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, past Catherine/Shamir Nevrand, past Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 22
Kudos: 47





	Goneril Girl

It was the second week of the Wyvern Moon when Marianne knocked on Hilda’s door before class. Hilda paused in the middle of tying up her signature twin tails at the sound. She was surprised that Marianne, and it was undoubtedly her friend judging from the distinctive, timid way she knocks, would knock at this time in the morning. She tried to brush the odd surge of apprehension she felt away with a cheery greeting called through the door. Upon her entrance, Hilda beckoned Marianne closer with a smile. Mariannne seemed upset, and Hilda started preparing their customary tea time array on rote. 

“Good morning, Marianne! You’re looking a little peaked today, what’s wrong?”

Marianne met her eyes only a moment before looking down. “You don’t have to make me anything special… I just wanted… To tell you something ahead of time.” After that she froze, and Hilda gave her a moment to gather herself, pouring the lavender tea Marianne favors into the little teacup Hilda had specially bought for her. Painted with horses frolicking on it, Hilda had seen it at the marketplace and knew immediately that she had to buy it for Marianne. Marianne was startled from her thoughts by the action, but almost looked more upset at the act of kindness. 

“I won’t be upset at you, whatever it is you need to say,” Hilda said softly. 

Marianne brushed at unshed tears. “I already told Claude, and um, I had wanted to tell you first, but I just know house leaders hear about this right after the professors-”

Hilda felt cold.

“That is, I'm trying to say... I am so sorry, Hilda, but I’m joining the Black Eagle house…. Professor Byleth is so nice to me…. And professor Hanneman makes me so upset, he keeps asking me things I can’t answer…. And then Edelgard is so patient with Bernadetta and um…” Marianne’s tears started flowing, and Hilda summoned up a smile out of pure muscle memory. 

She could tell there was even more to it than Marianne was able to vocalize, and was willing to admit that she could see the appeal of a quieter, more patient professor without an obsession with Crests. Meanwhile, Hilda still didn’t know how to tell Marianne that she knew that she had a Crest that she obviously hated. She shouldn’t be surprised Marianne was leaving, especially since the last few weeks she herself had been urging Marianne to try to enjoy the remaining months at the academy more, but Hilda still felt that same dazed feeling one gets when tossed from the back of their mount. 

“Oh Marianne, you have nothing to apologize for! We talked about how you deserve to have a better time at school, and I think the Professor will be a great teacher to you!”

“But- But I don’t want to leave you, or Claude, and professor Hanneman isn’t so bad, I can retract my transferal-” Hilda neatly cut off the increasingly anxious ramble by nudging her tea more firmly into Marianne’s hands. She made sure to meet Marianne’s eyes.

“Aw, for little ol’ me? But seriously Marianne, you’ll do so great with them! And we’ll have lunch together, we can still go flying together, and we’ll always have tea times! It’s not like you’re leaving the Alliance for the Empire, or anything. It’s just for lectures!” She said that, but that same apprehension from earlier returned with a gut wrenching lurch. 

Marianne struggled to stop the tears as she nodded, and Hilda’s smile fell a bit. “I will miss you in class, though. Make sure to take care of Lysithea and Leonie.”

Marianne managed to gather a bit of a smile. “What about Lorenz?”

“What about him?” Hilda fired back instantly.

Marianne giggled. 

“That’s more like it. C’mon, let’s toast to your bravery and independence!”

Marianne blushed but echoed Hilda sweetly, holding her tea, and Hilda’s heart hurt anew with how unbearably proud she was of the strides this girl who she loved had made. 

\--

It was apparently now Marianne’s last day in class, and though Hilda would have liked time to prepare herself emotionally, she was determined to be as joyful and reassuring as she could be for her friend. Yet she wasn’t quite able to hide the pain in her eyes when she scanned the room and saw how few of them would be left. Lorenz left the house first, at the very beginning of the Garland Moon, after several rants about being dissatisfied with the Golden Deer House’s leadership and being admiring of the Black Eagle House's magical prowess. No one was too torn up, but Claude did seem oddly disappointed, almost rueful when it happened. Lysithea was next to go, discomfited by Hanneman’s prying and making a surprisingly quick friendship with the distant leader of the Black Eagle House. Leonie left after her beloved mentor died, telling Claude with a mournful gravitas that she needed to protect the Professor according to Jeralt’s last instructions. 

Now Marianne was leaving, and Hilda had an intuition Ignatz would soon follow, with how often he made admiring comments about the Professor, and with how often he and Marianne could be found murmuring sweet things out by the gardens. Raphael and Ignatz both reacted with great sadness when Professor Hanneman informed the class that Marianne would be leaving the next day.

Hilda hoped Raphael would stay. She didn’t know what she’d do without his endless optimism. As it was, the Deer would be left without the best mages in their whole class, and the only other one still there with any aptitude for magic, Ignatz, would likely not even specialize in reason after leaving, with so many excellent mages already in the Black Eagle house. 

Claude and Hilda had discussed before how the Black Eagle house had poached, or recruited, students from the Blue Lion house before. Hilda wasn't too close to anyone in the house, but Claude kept tabs on that sort of thing and everyone hears gossip. Apparently both Sylvain and Ashe joined the Professor soon after the year began, Ashe being part of the mission to put his adoptive father's rebellion down and Sylvain being the one to strike down his brother not long after. Felix joined Byleth's class soon after the teacher gained the Creator Sword, loudly espousing their sword skills, while Hilda had heard from Sylvain in passing that Mercedes and Annette both were considering switching classes. Ingrid was the last real holdout, Claude had murmured that night they discussed it. 

In the heartbreaking present, their class broke for lunch, and Raphael, bless his heart, insisted on pulling Marianne and Ignatz with him to the dining hall for a farewell lunch. “Claude, Hilda! Better come join us too!”

Claude easily waved the man off. “Yeah, we’ll catch up, you guys go ahead!”

The room emptied out except for Claude and Hilda, the former of whom made his way next to his comrade. Hilda was making a great show of gathering her blank notes and stretching. “Phew! Professor Hanneman sure does go on and on, right?” Claude just looked at her quietly and leaned against the desk next to her. She quickly gave up on maintaining the front and her shoulders sagged. “Half of our graduating class will be gone, now.”

When Claude sighed, he and Hilda both looked mildly surprised at the honest expression of disappointment, but then he sighed again, as if a dam broke. “Yeah, this one hurts a lot. I want to think it’s just because I’m offended that Marianne would be less distressed by joining a class with Hubert than staying in this one, but I feel like I failed as a house leader.” Hilda tugged him into a hug, and he stiffened in surprise, before relaxing into the first hug he had had in awhile. She knew how seriously he took his role as heir and house leader. 

Claude and Hilda talked a little about worrying about their magic defenses and lack of healers, as Hilda was his unofficial but undisputed right hand, but both fell quiet, unable to manage that line of conversation for long. A breath and then Claude stretched in his usual showy way, so Hilda could see the defenses come back up. 

“What are we doing? We have lunch plans with some very lovely dining partners and Raphael. Anyways, I have no time to be morose when I have to go get ready for the tourney tonight. Ugh, I have to make sure Raphael remembers I signed him up as well.”

Hilda almost gave a start when she processed his words. “The tournament this week is an axe tourney? I’m better than Raphael with axes, why didn’t you ask me?”

  
Claude gave her a wry look. “I wonder?"

When she waited expectantly, he sighed. "You don’t need to feign interest in joining, I recruited Raphael in expectation of you not wanting to partake.”

“But I’d like to.”

Claude stared at her with narrowed eyes. “You hate the tourneys. The first time there was a lance tourney you conned Lorenz into taking your place despite how you had more experience with the weapon, and last month, after hearing about the upcoming tourneys, you already started moaning about an intermittent and convenient ache in your hands that affected your ability to wield heavy axes.”

“Can’t a girl want to help make her house look good?” Hilda said with a beatific smile, moving towards the dining hall and forcing Claude to follow. 

"You're not usually that girl," Claude replied.

“Maybe I’m competitive!” Hilda said with a wink, and Claude snorted on reflex as Hilda hoped he would, but then he looked at her longer. She kept her face clear but Claude must’ve seen something in it. “Maybe you are… Considering who always enters the tourneys for the Black Eagles specifically when it involves axes.”

“Psshhh, what feud do I have with Ferdinand?” Hilda deflected.

Claude shook his head with awe. “To think what it took for you to get invested in a house rivalry was Marianne leaving. No, to develop a sense of rivalry with Edelgard of all people? For what, stealing away ‘your’ Marianne?”

She didn’t dignify that with a response, annoyed that Clause was having an easier time identifying the frustration in her heart than she was.

When they got to lunch, Hilda informed Raphael cheerily that he was relieved of his duties, and insisted that Marianne had to come and cheer her on for one last victory with the house.

\--

For how Hilda had insisted on joining, she really didn’t usually like settings such as this. She had already watched as Edelgard deftly bested Dedue in the previous round, much to the man’s evident frustration, and after a difficult win, Hilda had beaten Annette without revealing the full extent of her Goneril strength. When Annette looked sullen at the loss, Hilda walked up and nudged her. "Too bad they wouldn't let you use a bolt axe." It startled a laugh out of Annette, almost despite herself, and Hilda preened when Annette wished her luck in the next round. 

Claude was in the middle of his fight with Ferdinand, and while Ferdinand was fast and agile, it seemed pretty clear to Hilda that Claude had the upper hand. Ferdinand finally ceded to Claude after a nasty blow to the shoulder, and the arena cheered after the showing from both sides. Hilda wandered deeper into the arena, away from the stands, seeing how Claude was chatting with Ferdinand and already had a crowd gathering to further engage him in conversation after that. He could manage talking to the students of the academy without Hilda’s assistance. 

Hilda paused in her wanderings when she heard the faint rise and fall of conversation by the equipment room. Since there was one last battle to the round, Hilda figured the monastery staff wouldn’t yet be preparing the weapons for the next duel and the other people in need of weapons would already be positioned by the battlefield. She was understandably curious and undeniably nosy, so she quietly made her way towards the voices. 

Hubert’s dry drawl was unmistakable, even before Hilda could clearly discern what was being said. That had to mean the other voice was-

“Lady Edelgard, assuming Claude triumphed over Aegir, your next opponent will be the Goneril heir.”

“Truly? No longer Raphael? I will have to adjust my strategy. I was under the impression Hilda avoided activities such as the tournaments as if they were the plague.”

“You are correct to think so. She is notoriously opposed to hard work of any kind. Admittedly, I too was surprised when the Golden Deer House made the sudden change.”

“Do you think Raphael fell ill?”

“With the way he eats? Perhaps. Though he is also hardier than any beast I’ve encountered. I thought it may be that she feels a certain… need to prove something with the departure of another classmate.”

“Marianne von Edmund? That seems an unlikely friendship.”

“They are apparently close.”

Edelgard hummed in acknowledgement, and moved into Hilda’s line of sight. She was assessing the rack of shields, lifting and discarding the enormous things without more than a thought. “I think it more likely that Claude cajoled her into this for a future favor than her feeling some sort of responsibility to her House. Either way, I don’t expect a problem from someone who thinks expending effort to be beneath her. Do you disagree?"

"She does possess her family Crest and has shown some proficiency with axes, though she is rarely seen at the training fields. She is also notoriously spoiled and avoids her monastery assignments. As you said, effort is beneath her."

"Another entitled noble. I expect that with the slightest application of pressure she will fold."

“Of course, Lady Edelgard. A fair assessment.”

Hilda slipped away before she could hear anything else, the instincts honed from years of sneaking away from chaperones keeping her steps soundless even as she reeled from the conversation she overheard. It was incredible how much it could hurt, even after years of carefully cultivating that unaffected air she favored. _The casualness of that dismissal would shrink even Baltie’s confidence,_ Hilda thought ruefully. She found herself wandering aimlessly several minutes later, and returned to the waiting area where Claude would be. Said House leader was alone and removing his gloves when he saw her and lit up with relief. 

“There you are! The next round is about to start and you’re up second. We’re going to make sure to get you properly equipped, since you’re facing-” Claude stopped. “Are you okay? You seem rattled.”

Hilda summoned up a smile. “Just overheard a conversation between Edelgard and Hubert I didn’t enjoy.”

Claude looked even more concerned. “That’s ominous, especially when I have a strong suspicion Hubert would kill for less than a person overhearing a plot.”

“Luckily, I didn’t hear of any heinous plots,” Hilda teased. “I’m okay. Just help me prepare for this battle.”

Claude left it alone, for the time, and launched into a description of any weaknesses he knew Edelgard to possess. While it was a short lift, Hilda did feel buoyed by the strength of Claude’s conviction. It made it easy to take her weapon. 

When she walked on the field, her opponent striding forward with indomitable confidence and poise, even for a friendly match, she felt actual anger, beyond irritation or frustration, for the first time in quite a while. The feeling propelled her axe forward with more strength than Edelgard, or anyone, seemed to expect, judging from the shocked murmur in the crowd at how the axe rang off Edelgard’s shield and how it forced her back a step. The exchange of blows that followed soon saw Edelgard regain her ground and then some, despite Hilda’s attempts to feint and bait her into dropping her defenses. She sidestepped a blow aimed at her arm and, shortsightedly, took that opening to put as much strength behind an attack as she could. Of course, Edelgard absorbed the blow with her usual resilience, and Hilda soon found herself knocked to the ground with the world spinning around her. 

While the crowds roared around her, Hilda felt a seed of resentment she had never noticed before take root in her heart. Edelgard took a moment to puff up her chest and preen for the crowds, before she politely held out a hand to help Hilda up. She pretended not to notice it, despite how rude it was. The thought of Marianne watching the fight and seeing Edelgard prove herself the better fighter was humiliating. She couldn't manage to work up regret or shame at the slight with that weighing on her. She did feel some shame about ignoring Leonie after the redhead tried to get her attention after the bout. Claude didn't comment on any of it, only rubbing her back when they were alone in the back room. 

Then Edelgard bested Claude in the final round, and Hilda granted him the same consideration of not commenting.

The blow to the chest Hilda had dealt to the Emperor-to-be did little to soothe the sting of the loss, especially since the wild abandon of her swing had opened her defenses to a nasty retaliation. She felt momentary satisfaction when she saw the normally stoic Edelgard wince in the dining hall a few days later, after Caspar bumped into the spot of impact. She was sure he hit the inevitable bruise from the battle on accident, but the vindication faded into hurt when Lysithea, standing next to her, started to concernedly nag Edelgard into taking better care of injuries.

That frustration of defeat turned into a nagging resentment, made worse when Ignatz did leave. The resentment became a deep dismay when the war began and none of her previous classmates chose to abandon Edelgard. Only Claude and her were left with the Deer by then.

\--

It was the year 1185 and Byleth had returned to the world. Judith was the lucky one to bring the news to Claude’s war council upon her return to Derdriu. Hilda was curled up in a chair in the corner, absently mending a section of torn leather from her favorite skirt while she listened to the week’s usual dour updates. While the Alliance had faced less of the brunt of the Empire’s might in the war, infighting and border struggles have greatly weakened morale and supply chains. Most all of Claude's allies and advisors had already filed out, but the core of Claude's advisors, them being his friends, excepting Nader, loitered in the room.

“And now your old Professor has been spotted leading the illustrious Black Eagle Strike Force,” Judith said, voice dry as a desert. 

Claude groaned. “Of course they have been. I always wondered if they were still alive.”

“Do they still have their fancy sword?” Hilda piped up from the corner. 

“Indeed. It seems the Professor’s miraculous revival has revitalised the forces in central Fodlan, and, as reported, Edelgard is now using the Monastery as a launching point into the North and East of the continent,” Judith said with a weary sigh. “They seem to have an uncanny ability to cheat death.”

Claude frowned. “I may move you from the bridge of Myrrdin, despite what we discussed today. We need you here, revitalizing our own forces in response.”

Judith scoffed. “That’s what you’re for, kiddo. Besides, the logic for sending me there is sound. I can better deploy troops from there, and it’s one of our most important strongholds.”

“And one of our safest,” Hilda called out. 

  
Judith rolled her eyes. “I may be getting older, but I don’t appreciate all your dithering over my safety. I have been in more battles than the two of you combined.”

“We need every leader and hero we have, and you’re one of our finest. The Alliance would suffer such a blow without you here-” Claude started.

“If you think I would ever forsake my duties as a general for my own meager safety-”

“No one doubts your dedication,” Hilda cut into the rising argument. “But I’m selfish and want you to stick around for as long as possible.” Her tremulous smile made Judith sigh. 

“You kids, always trying to play me like I’m some instrument. The sad thing is that I know you both do it and still fall for it too often,” Judith said. “I wish I could smack my old self for promising your mothers I’d look after you two.”

Claude and Hilda both laughed. “I bet Nader could pass along a very strongly worded message to Tiana for you,” Claude offered.

“What good would that do? She’d just make fun of my softness again. Holst, though. I could bully him into lecturing Hilda.”

Hilda mimed throwing her quill at Judith, who laughed. “Don’t you dare!”

Judith had been a part of Hilda’s life for almost as long as she could remember, and while Claude met her later in life, both of them looked up to her as if she was a beloved Aunt. Afterall, their mothers and her had been close friends. Ladies Judith Daphnel, Hadewig Goneril, and Tiana Riegan were close in age to each other, and gravitated together while still very young. Claude said his mother had once described their becoming friends as something inevitable, while Hilda’s father claimed it had to be the goddess’s work for such a well matched trio of friends to come together. Rebels who resented many of the trappings of their roles, they would get into an absurd amount of trouble at the drop of their hat. Judith was the only heir to her house, despite her lack of a crest, and had an eye for tactics that would ensure her eventual fame as a commander. She also had a dry wit and delighted in making people stumble over their words. 

Hadewig held the crest of Goneril and was accordingly the heir to the throne, but hated most of the responsibilities that came with the role, according to Hilda's father. She loved meeting the people who lived in their province and caring for them, and was known for being charming and commanding in equal amounts. She had a knack for dealing with conflict, whether diffusing or causing it. She also thrilled to be in battle, whether with the knights of her household, the neighboring nobles in friendly duels, or through the Almyran skirmishes on the border. She famously didn’t like to use Freikugel, preferring instead to wield lances, and rode a small wyvern in the style of a lightning fast falcon knight. 

The now Lord Goneril was originally her sworn knight, Frederick, a devoted and kindly warrior who was frighteningly good with axes and was easily cajoled into assisting Hadewig with all of the minutiae of administration she hated. No one was surprised when they married. In their vows, she added a line about wanting to marry the man after seeing how good at paperwork he was. He never stood a chance, and the two were hopelessly in love.

Hadewig died when Hilda was still very young, in a border struggle on Fodlan’s throat. The loss of her changed Frederick, as well as how he treated Almyran prisoners. Holst kept Hadewig’s words in his mind, as she had often counseled him not to hate the people he fought, and kept a much more even-handed approach to dealing with their neighbors.

Hilda didn’t recall her mother’s words on the matter nearly as clearly. Her views on the Almyrans once variegated widely between Holst’s wary but tempered caution and Frederick’s outright hostility. With age and her friendship with people like Claude and Cyril, Hilda had a feeling Hadewig would be pleased with how she had matured and now worked alongside the future King of Almyra.

The last of the trio, Tiana delighted in chaos and mischief making, regularly making a game of ferreting out every salacious or odd secret she could from her place as a powerful Riegan, who, while without being likely to inherit the title of Duke, was the life of every party. 

(Hilda still recalled the time Claude received a rare letter from his mother after he wrote to her of the Gloucester’s switch in allegiance to the Empire. He came to her room with tears in his eyes, holding his stomach with mirth before thrusting a slightly crumpled letter in her hands. Hilda stared at him bemusedly, but began reading without a word. He didn’t seem capable of talking, after all. What she read was a scathing account of the time Count Gloucester attempted to court both Tiana and Hadewig without realizing that they would share every detail of his courtship attempts with the other. The two crafted an elaborate scheme to punish his insincere propositions, stringing him along for 2 years before Lord Ordelia, one of the many nobles who was let in on the joke, finally took pity on the man and informed him just how close the two women were. Judith had famously laughed so hard she almost fell off her horse when he then tried to court her. By the end of the letter both Hilda and Claude were curled up on the floor, crying, though after a while Hilda found the tears had shifted from humour to grief. She struggled to explain why.)

Hilda knew Claude was the child of Tiana quite early on, because of both their friendship and family ties, but it wasn’t until after the war started and Hilda proved to be dedicated to Claude’s cause that he explained the Almyran side of his heritage. She regretted every ignorant word she had said to him even more with the revelation, and was endlessly grateful he stayed around her.

Hilda was jolted from her memories as Judith's voice rose to clearly address them both. Hilda shook herself, annoyed that she hadn't even noticed her mind drift and bothered by the path of her melancholy. 

“I’m leaving with the morning deployment, so I do have to go. Till my next report, you two.” Hilda hopped from her seat to give Judith a hug on her way out, while Claude waved from his chair. 

“Judith.” She halted at the door when Claude's voice cut through the air. “We need you. If you’re in serious danger, retreat.” His voice was as serious as the grave, and Hilda felt a warm frisson of apprehension go up her spine.

Judith shook her head ruefully, but gave both him and Hilda a warm smile. “Always fussing, when that should be my job. I understand. I’m not going anywhere.”

Hilda watched her retreating back even as Claude turned to his papers with a frown. 

She couldn't shake the image.

When the news came that the Hero of Daphnel had fallen to the Empire by the Sword of Nemesis alongside the Great Bridge of Myrrdin, Hilda felt as if she had been gouged open with an axe. 

The pain only increased when she saw the look on Claude's face.

\--

Hilda gasped for air, Freikugel clutched in her right hand like her last lifeline, even as the head of the weapon rested on the blood splashed cobblestones of Derdriu. Her other hand was pressed to the gash on her side, still bleeding from where one of Bernadetta’s arrows had found their mark. Hilda had seen the girl fire off the arrow even as she attempted to evade the Empire ballista and almost wished she hadn't noticed the distinctive purple hair. She heard the angry calls of Empire soldiers behind her, though she was thankfully out of sight, tucked where she was behind a building. 

“Find the Goneril girl! We will bring her to the Emperor and have her head for our fallen comrades!” 

Hilda waited out the sound of angry troops rushing by, trying to gather air in her lungs as silently as possible. When there were a few moments of silence and she was no longer desperate for air, she crept around the corner of a building, knowing she needed to try to find Claude, if he was even still alive. 

She had just spotted what looked like Claude’s wyvern, Hala, gleaming white in the sky, when she heard a gasp of air. She froze, then almost cursed at the hesitation, spinning around to try to heft her axe. Her arms couldn’t even manage the full movement, but they would have given out anyways when she came face to face with Linhardt. 

They stared at each other in silence, both of their arms resting limply at their sides. Hilda was tired. Too tired to even try to heft her axe, too tired to say a word, too tired to do anything but hold a hand to the wound and breathe. She wasn’t sure how many people she had killed, years into a brutal war, and had now seen the end of the country she fought for. 

When she made no move to lift her axe, Linhardt caught his breath and narrowed his gaze, assessing the old school mate in front of him. Blood was pooling on the stones below her, and her eyes were glassy. He knew he had seen recognition in her eyes, but Freikugel remained dull, no light shining to denote its activation. He lifted a hand, slowly shifting into a magic casting position. Hilda just smiled wryly. _So I die at the hands of the only person thought to be more uncaring than me._ Linhardt met her gaze solemnly, and cast the spell. Hilda felt a surge of magic and the familiar itch of healing. She blinked, lifting her hand from her side to see the wound close. He dropped his hands, stepping back from her with that same piercing gaze. 

“Linhardt! Where are you? Let’s just go back to Edelgard, I don’t really want to find Hilda or Claude.” Caspar’s voice rang out.

“Caspar, be careful to check who is around when you say things like that,” Dorothea’s considerably quieter voice said heatedly. 

Linhardt watched Hilda for another moment, but when she merely watched him back, he turned and walked towards the sound of his allies. “Stop your yelling, Caspar. No one's over here, anyways.”

Their voices moved farther away, and Hilda was suddenly aware of how quick and harsh her breathing was when it was ringing in her ears. She stumbled in the direction of where she last saw Claude flying, passion propelling her forward once more. 

She could hear the Adrestian forces calling for a sniper to shoot the wyvern down when Claude finally spotted the light of Freikugel beckoning him down to rescue her. He dipped down, landing just long enough to heft Hilda up by the arm before taking off towards the Almyran fleet beginning their retreat back to their homeland. 

Hilda clung to Claude, arm wrapped around his waist, as he directed Hala to dodge the arrows coming their way. He swore viciously in Almyran, and Hilda turned to look at what he saw. Her blood went cold when she recognized the familiar sniper perched on a nearby roof. 

Shamir lifted Parthia, light glancing off her arrowhead. Claude urged Hala on faster, Almyran falling from his lips, voice fervent like in prayer. 

The arrow was loosed. 

Hilda felt the breeze of the arrow as it flew wide, missing the three of them. Claude and Hilda both turned to stare in the direction of Shamir’s fading profile. Her bow was lowered at her side as she faded out of sight. 

Claude exhaled sharply, squeezing Hilda’s arm around his waist. Neither of them seemed able to form words.

While Claude flew them to the ships, Hilda stayed turned in the direction of Derdriu, watching as the armies gathered to cheer on their illustrious Emperor and her prophet of victory and celebrated their triumphant victory over the Alliance. 

They had caught up to the fleet when one of them finally spoke. 

“Come with me to Almyra.”

Hilda thought of retreating backs.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

\--

Hilda woke with a start, the remnants of her dream slipping from her. She absently started braiding her hair, as she knew there wouldn’t be a point in trying to return to sleep after those vivid memories of Derdriu had haunted her sleep. Three years later, and she still couldn’t forget the sound of the arrow that passed her and Claude by.

She met with her oldest friend for breakfast, as was their custom, and mentioned her dreams over tea. 

“I sometimes dream of the war, too.” He hummed thoughtfully as he sipped his tea. “Do you have regrets about it?”

“Do you?” Hilda countered. 

“Of course,” Claude said simply. 

She held his gaze, looking for something, but eventually sighed. “I do too. I… I miss home, sometimes. As much as I love it here, I can’t help but resent how I feel like my home is no longer mine. Like my birthplace was stolen."

A servant entered in the middle of their conversation bearing letters for the two of them. Usually most of the letters they received were for Claude, but Holst could be counted on to write to Hilda in the guise of writing diplomatic envoys for the Almyran king.

Hilda took her mail with a gracious smile, which faded when she recognized the script on the letter. “It’s from Baltie.”

Claude was squinting with annoyance at one of his own letters. “Pardon?”

“Remember Balthus? He’s writing to me now.” 

“Balthus? Oh right, you mentioned he had come crawling back to Holst a while back. What is he saying to you?”

“He says Holst needs me to come back to Fodlan.”

Claude stopped eating. “Ah.”

“If now he’s writing to me too, then Holst must actually need me to come home beyond missing me... Baltie wouldn’t be writing me outside of Holst’s letters otherwise…” Hilda said, unconsciously crumpling the edges of the letter. 

Claude was quiet for a long time. "You knew this may happen. We’ve talked about it."

“I guess I still didn’t expect to be needed so urgently.”

“You’re more essential than you give yourself credit for.”

"I don't want to leave you,” Hilda said quietly. 

"But you will if it is to help your brother."

"I promise to do everything I can for peaceful relations."

"Hey, don't lie like that to me," Claude replied playfully, despite the sadness in his eyes. You won't do _everything_. Even if you are a reformed slacker. Besides, we should look at this as an opportunity for you to make the Empire sweat a bit."

Hilda started to smile when she saw Claude’s grin. “I recognize that expression. So we’re planning revenge, are we?

“If you could make Edelgard and Byleth sweat while improving both your family's standing and Almyra’s, wouldn’t you want to?”

“I might.” Hilda smirked. “Can we really prepare me for something like that in a month?”

“We’ve prepared armies in less.”

“Yeah, but we lost the war.”

“With minimum casualties?”

“Ugh. Still a bad record.”

“In a way, it does work in your advantage.”

“Oh?”

“They underestimate you.”

\--

Stepping off her wyvern and onto Fodlany soil, Hilda was brought back to the moment she first left the continent. It was her first time leaving Fodlan, and she didn’t know if she’d ever be coming back. Most of the Almyran forces went back on their ships, with some patrolling for pursuit on wyverns. Claude flew himself and Hilda up to watch the continent disappear as they travelled. It wasn’t until the coastline was faint in the distance that they landed back on the ship. Hilda spent most of the rest of the trip to the capital up in the crows nest, until nausea caused by a mix of seasickness and grief drove her under the deck.

Three years later, and she was listening to her boots clack against the stone of the fortress her family had long been entrusted with to protect Fodlan from the country she had taken refuge in. She stroked her wyvern’s nose until she relaxed. “Not here to fight today, Jade. They won’t be keeping us out.” It had been a month since that fateful letter summoning her home, and then there she was, at Fodlan’s throat, a party of hers and Claude’s closest allies for company.

Bushra did not get off her wyvern, still scanning the skies for an ambush. Hanan had dismounted with Hilda, and rolled her eyes. “Do not be so nervous, Bushra. Holst will not wish to do anything that endangers his sister.”

Bushra clicked her tongue irritably. “You are naive if you think that Holst would not have a plan to get around that. Nor do I think we should underestimate their new Dragon-Slaying Empress. If she caught wind of this meeting, she may order an attack, suspecting treachery.

Hilda laughed. “While I would expect something like that from Edelgard, Holst would never let that happen.”

Khayyam snorted skeptically from his steed, his wyvern mimicking the noise with agitation. “You freely admit the leader of your lands will hold ill will towards you, yet you still plan to return to them.”

"You admit they're rightfully mine," Hilda said dryly. Khayyam gave her a pointed look.

Hilda groaned. “Khayyam, all of your protests have been noted. I just can’t ignore my brother’s letters, and I think I can actually help everyone’s situation from there. I can help Claude, especially.”

“What of you, though? How can we visit you or hear from you when you’ll be so far away?” Bushra flushed. “You had promised to help me win Ibtisam’s heart.”

Hilda grinned. “And lucky for you, I arranged for you to go on a date when you return to town. I asked her for a favor before I left.”

Bushra froze in terror. “When… I get back? So soon?”

“You’ve waited long enough to ask! You both are being so silly, she is so into you. But…. I do have a good luck charm for you.” Hilda dug into her saddlebags and pulled out a beautifully made necklace with engraved wyvern teeth and red flowers preserved in resin. 

Bushra looked close to tears. “Oh Hilda…. It’s so beautiful. Thank you.”

“It’ll go with your favorite tunic. Obviously I think you should wear that with your new necklace for your date!”

“What if it all goes wrong? I don’t want to waste all your hard work and effort.” 

“Oh stop, I hardly did anything. Promise to write to me about how your outing with Ibitsam goes?” Hilda said with a sad smile. “You better write to me as well, Hanan, Khayyam. I trust you to be more discerning about how the date goes, and I’ll want to hear about everyone’s adventures, dating mistakes, and... I’ll just miss you all so much…”

“I will miss you as well. We all will. Though the knowledge you will avenge your cause and fallen allies does bring me some comfort,” Hanan said firmly, sharing a weighted look with Hilda.

“Almyra forever has a place for you with us. We all know Claude is loathe to see you go. Our King needs support,” Khayyam said next.

“Then he’s lucky he has all of you,” Hilda replied, brushing at the tears that threatened to fall.

Hanan pulled Hilda into an embrace, and Bushra and Khayyam swiftly followed, all of them cherishing the last opportunity they will have for quite a while to be together in such a way. 

Hilda quickly ran through every last word and instruction she had for the friends she had made, including the many farewells for the friends that couldn’t accompany her to the border. When the horn signalling the Goneril troops’ arrival sounded, Hilda had to pull her friends into a final hug, before she started to make her way through the fortress gates, Jade walking beside her, wings tucked in so as not to spook any of the Fodlaners. 

After a few minutes of discomfort in the presence of her clearly Almyran wyvern and after escaping the Almyran entourage’s watchful gaze from their place in the skies, the troops quickly opened up to Hilda and began to exuberantly tell her of everything that had occurred in the region since the end of the war. Hilda was delighted to realize that the people of her homelands were as warm, if not warmer, towards her than she remembered. (She had returned her hairstyle to the ponytail she had worn during the war, and the choice was already paying off.) From how they reverently spoke of the Alliance’s last battles in the Alliance and the clear derision in their tone when talking of House Gloucester, Hilda had the sense that she was something of a symbol of resistance, and that many seemed to consider her time in Almyra to be a way both to avoid the Empire’s grasp and to defy them. 

Holst did not come with the group to welcome her back, as it was generally discouraged for the lead generals of either Almyra or Fodlan to approach the border if not outright threatening war. Both Holst and Balthus were waiting at their castle’s gates, though. 

Hilda was hit with a wave of affection when Holst came into view and immediately started sprinting towards the convoy. Hilda patted Jade’s nose to make sure she wouldn’t see the 5’5 man barrelling towards them as a threat before running forward to meet her brother in a hug. They hadn’t been together since before the end of the war, and Hilda found herself checking that he was still in one piece even as he bawled in her ear about how worried about her he had been. Hilda waved the troops into the castle as he cried on her, and all of whom filtered into the castle laughing about their fierce general’s weak spot for his sister. Balthus strode forward at a much more sedate pace, the leisurely bastard, until Jade growled warningly at him, apparently less comfortable around him than she was by the man who looked and smelled a lot like her rider. 

“Yo Hilda, call off your… very large and very scary wyvern,” Balthus called nervously as Jade lumbered closer to hover more protectively over Hilda. 

“Aw, good girl, you can sense a deadbeat at 20 paces!” Hilda cooed, while patting her brother's head in the hopes he’d reign it in.

“C’mon Hilda, don’t be a-”

Holst’s head rose eerily similar to how Jade’s did. “I’m sorry, want to think about what you are about to say to my much beloved sister?” 

Balthus groaned. “God, Holst is going to be even more exhausting with you back.”

Hilda smirked. “Am I calling you my Balthus-in-law yet?”

“He should be so lucky,” Holst replied immediately. Jade’s huff above Hilda sounded like laughter.

Holst quickly befriended Jade after she explained that she received the wyvern in Almyra, likely in part because they were obviously siblings and Jade was part of Hilda’s family, and Balthus was introduced to the wyvern right after. They trailed into the castle, Hilda and Holst catching up in the way they always did: Holst firing off a barrage of questions until Hilda refused to answer a single one more. 

“Where’s Dad right now?” Hilda asked in the courtyard. 

“Derdriu. We decided it was best that he maintain all our ties and relationships in person, and if he isn’t there, Gloucester will make moves to usurp us in influence quicker than an arrow can fly. He left you some notes, though!”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Hilda replied. 

“Jade won’t stop trying to eat my hair,” Balthus complained from behind them, before swearing when the aforementioned wyvern caught a lock. 

“Good, she can give you a trim. I’m honestly so exhausted with you claiming it adds to your charms when it just makes it look like I’m cavorting with a hooligan,” Holst said unsympathetically. 

“You know, for someone with such an issue with my hair, you seem to really like pulling it,” Balthus leered.

“Balthus, I can put a new bounty on your head at any time,” Holst warned without heat.

“You know, he once tried to get me to pay off his debts while we were in academy,” Hilda said faux-nostalgically, even as she pulled Jade away from her quest.

“HILDA- Now Holst, don’t look at me like that, you have to understand my situation at the time-”

After a nice dinner where Hilda got to interrogate the nature of Holst and Balthus’s relationship, the three of them went into Holst’s study, safe from potential Adrestian spies, to discuss what their plan of action would be and the state of Fodlaner politics. Claude and Hilda were decently in the loop, considering the ties Claude had maintained in the area, but the Eastern half of the continent was more of a mystery.

“I’ll cut straight to the point; Edelgard wants a high-ranking representative of House Goneril in the capital for leverage and support. She needs a strong ally on the Eastern border, especially since she doesn't know what Claude is planning, but also wants potential bargaining power against us. So, I’m sending you,” Holst said at his desk, a map of Fodlan still set out from the conversation regarding the current state of affairs.

“While I don’t much care how anyone feels about it, isn’t it a bad idea for me to show up without warning from an enemy country and after fighting for the other side? Don’t you want to stay on her good side?” 

“Yes, but also no. After the war, Edelgard wrote several decrees regarding combatants from the Kingdom or Alliance armies where she offered most of the soldiers involved full pardons if they came to work with the Empire. I intend to cite that law if it becomes an issue. Though… Edelgard, for all of her skill when it came to consolidating her power, is still seen more as an enemy than a leader in this region. The west of the Alliance lands are pretty firmly under Gloucester control, but everything east looks to us. Both Houses Daphnel and Riegan have cast their lot with us. Daphnel is especially… resentful... of Empire control.``

“So you’re hoping that sending the current heir to the house after you will both increase your standing in the capital but send a message of cooperation? Am I aiming for looking like a bargaining piece or an ally?”

“I need someone I trust who knows what to argue for on behalf of the old Alliance lands, and you’re both popular and well-connected enough that even the people in Enbarr would hesitate to mess with you.”

“While you stay here, making a big show of how important you are to Fodlan, I’m going to go… subtly undermine Edelgard while trying to ingratiate myself?” Hilda interpreted. 

Holst grinned. Balthus, from his spot in the corner marvelled at how similar their devious expressions were. “Edelgard can't afford pissing us off too much, since half of the alliance hates Gloucester and loves us, and you’re close with Almyra.” 

“Nice.”

Holst sat back in his chair, heartened by how invested Hilda was. “I do hope this aligns with all the plans you and Claude must’ve hatched while you were over there.”

“You could say that.” Hilda flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll be putting in some work.”

\-----------

A/N:

So I love Hilda a lot. BUT, I also love Edelgard a lot and this is strictly a no-hate zone. I don’t want to hear shit-talking of any character in my comments unless you’re shit-talking Lorenz. 

This fic is basically a way for me to work through my many feelings post-Black Eagles run of the game, and is also a way for me to have fun writing a slightly more bloodthirsty than usual Hilda with a bone to pick with all of her former friends. (Spoiler alert: everything will probably work out.) 

To give context: in this fic, Byleth managed to recruit everyone they possibly could to the Black Eagle house while in the academy, and they and Edelgard managed to keep everyone they could alive. Because in my own playthrough I managed to finish the battle of Deridru without killing HIlda, even though it was fucking hard, she is still kicking it with Claude. (Ironically, I didn’t know you could only spare Claude by fighting him with Byleth or Edelgard. Good thing I got to see the Claude is spared ending when my roommate did it.) This fic will have several rare pairs and references to lots of tragic “what-if” romantic scenarios. Pour one out for Dimilix, y’all. And Dimitri in general, tbh. I’ll also be exploring what happened to Hilda in Almyra and during the war later in this fic! 

If there’s any sort of demand for it, I may also write some more about the Hadewig-Tiana-Judith adventures. I don’t know if the game wants us to think Hilda’s dad was the Goneril heir, but I do what I want so Holst is a badass without a crest and Hilda’s mom was a chaotic badass. Us never getting to meet Holst is a tragedy, so I have written in the other short, pretty, pink-haired Goneril sibling.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my bestie dontcallmeking for beta'ing! They are an incredible writer and have a bunch of Fire Emblem stuff written too, so check them out!!!


End file.
